


Honey

by laurpas



Series: Gratitude [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Food Kink, M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurpas/pseuds/laurpas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders decides to spice things up by trying to bring food into the bedroom. It... Does not go as planned.</p><p>Based on a true story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey

**Author's Note:**

> bless @mnemosynea for betaing this for me. If this flows better than usual it's all on them

  Fenris, Anders was slowly beginning to realize, had something of a sweet-tooth.

  He’d noticed his fondness for apples first﹘despite the fact that the elf had very little actual food in his home (or the broken down mansion he called home) he always had at least a small supply of apples and whenever the group passed by the stalls in Hightown Anders would watch as his eyes greedily took in the carts piled high with the gleaming fruit.

  Of course it went beyond just apples﹘Fenris also seemed to have a fondness for oranges and, once drunk, had bemoaned the fact that Kirkwall had little in the way of cacao products.

  (“The Fog Warriors had the most delicious drink﹘chocolate, but melted down and mixed with cream and sugar…”) The way that Fenris’ voice had dipped low when he had spoken of it, almost husky, had a rather alarming effect on Anders.

  And then, when Varric managed to find a packet of the powdery substance and gifted it to him for Satinalia the look on his face, so surprised and pleased, made Anders realize that he had to figure out some way to get him something sweet. It would be entirely worth it to watch his eyes light up again, to watch his mouth curl upwards in that little smile of his, the one that the world so rarely saw.

  It started as him bringing the occasional apple pie home (all of which Fenris devoured) but it wasn’t long before Anders realized that there might be a much more…exciting way to bring his lover something sweet.

  And that was what they were now﹘lovers, and had been for some time. Neither spoke of it to their friends, nor did they talk much about their relationship or the future where it concerned the two of them. But that was the way of lovers, was it not? Anders, he told himself, could be content with this. It was more than he deserved, and was frankly pushing enough at Justice’s very limited patience as it was.

  Just as quickly as his thoughts had begun to spiral down he reeled them back in, trying to remind himself that there was nothing attractive about wallowing in self pity and, what was more, that Fenris had brought him a great deal of happiness and pleasure. So what if their association was more shallow than Anders might have wished? He was lucky that Fenris had even thought to look twice at him.

  “Well, he’ll certainly be looking more than twice at this,” he muttered to himself as he took the small jar of honey he had purchased at the market and dipped two of his fingers into it.

  Although Anders had engaged in plenty of sex in his life, the truth of it was that most of it was rather vanilla, save for when he involved magic. Sex in the Circle dormitories did not leave much time or privacy for extended explorations and as an adult most of his partners had been one-night stands with little interest in veering off into darker waters. His “Sparklefingers” routine had in fact been a drunken suggestion from one of the patrons of the Pearl and he still felt lucky that it had worked as well as it had.

  But he was always willing to experiment and as he slowly pasted the honey onto one nipple and then the other, thinking of Fenris’ face as he had gotten that packet of cacao powder, he decided that this was going to go very, very well.

  
  


  He’d decided to surprise Fenris in his own home as, while neither lived in particularly clean quarters, the mansion won out by a slim margin _. A_ slim _margin,_ Anders had thought as he had passed by the two corpses that flanked the door earlier. It would also be much easier to time his arrival. He was scheduled to come back that evening from a trip with Hawke and had Anders decided to wait at his clinic it might have been days before Fenris decided to come visit him. The thought of himself lying propped up on a cot, stark naked and covered in honey, for days on end as he waited for the elf had Anders suppressing a loud laugh.

  And if anyone had walked in on that…Maker help him.

  And so he had prepared Fenris’ room, tidying up the bed and lighting a fire in the hearth as well as leaving out some food on the table that he and Fenris generally used. _Though_ , Anders thought, a naughty smirk on his face, _should Fenris have other, greater appetites_ …

  Justice disapproved of the levity, but Anders freely ignored him. To feel so bright and buoyant was a relief, even if it was for something silly and ridiculous, such as covering himself in honey in the hopes that he could convince his lover to lick it all off of him.

  He had just trailed a stripe down his upper arm, trying to avoid the hairier parts of him (this honey was making him realize that he had far more hair than he realized on his body) when he heard the front door downstairs open and then quietly close. Briefly he froze, only for his heart to resume beating once more, this time at triple the pace it had been keeping before. Fenris was home now and he﹘

  Taking a deep breath he slid the jar of honey under the bed and then stood up, strutting to the door that separated Fenris’ room from the rest of the mansion. Closer and closer he could hear the padding of footsteps as Fenris ascended the stairs, and Anders could not help the flush of excitement and nervousness that came over him as they finally stopped before the door.

  “ _Quid hoc est..?_ ” He swallowed heavily at the gravelly sound of Fenris’ voice and the casual use of Tevene. He seemed very careful not to speak it, but would occasionally let a few words slip out when they were alone or when he was emotional.

  Deciding that he could stand to wait no longer Anders opened the door, trying to lean as alluringly as he could against the doorframe and giving Fenris the most sultry look he had, eyes half-lidded and head tipped back slightly, his hair (freshly washed), left to hang around his shoulders.

  “Hello,”  Anders purred, trying to remain as serious as possible, which was difficult when one was stark naked and covered in food of any kind, least of all honey. He was rewarded, however, by the look in Fenris eyes when they finally managed to take him in entirely. It was not the same look that had been on his face when Anders had first started bringing apple pies home. It wasn’t even the same expression as when Varric had gifted him with the powdered cacao mixture.

  It was much, much better.

  “Anders,” he said, and the mage could see how he had curled his gauntleted hands into fists, “What…is on your body?” His voice sounded strangled, his composure not quite what it usually was, and Anders had to fight not to grin.

  “Honey.” Anders replied blithely, “I spilled some on myself earlier.”

  It was ridiculous﹘even Fenris knew that it was ridiculous, but still neither of them so much as cracked a smile.

  “Is that is so?”  

  “Yes, and I’ve had the hardest time getting it off of me. If only I had someone to help…”

  Fenris moved far faster than anyone, especially someone carrying a massive sword and wearing armor, had a right to; but it was all Anders could do not to gasp and laugh in delight as he was picked up and then tossed onto the bed, landing in a rather disgraceful heap of limbs. Fenris seemed to be torn between removing his armor and clothing as quickly as he possibly could while still trying to take in every line of Anders’ body with his eyes.

  The mage couldn’t possibly know what he did to him, standing in the doorway as he had been, stark naked and with…with _honey_ dripping down his body. It was so decadent, so beyond anything Fenris had expected to find, stomping up the stairs to his bedroom after an excursion with Hawke.

  The way the fire had lit Anders from behind, how the honey, dark and rich, amber-colored, had complimented his skin so well, begging to be licked and nibbled on…

  He was usually gentle, when it came to things like this. Respectful, even gentlemanly. Never before would have thought of throwing Anders on the bed and then, once he had completely disrobed, leaping onto it after him.

  Beneath him Anders laughed, a bright, happy noise. It was very different from the persona that he had affected when answering the door but one that Fenris was happy to hear all the same.

  “Fenris,” he gasped, as the elf bent his head down and licked one long stripe up his chest. “I﹘ I﹘”

  “Yes?” He briefly lifted his head up, meeting Anders’ gaze.

  He was panting, still feeling a little giggly from before, but as soon as Fenris looked up he managed to get ahold of himself. In his most imperious voice he said, “Don’t leave a drop behind.”

  “Yes, Anders,” he replied and then dipped his head again.

  Fenris had always viewed Anders’ body as a frankly wondrous thing, even if the mage usually protested otherwise. He loved the curling hair on his chest, the way it thickened and darkened the further down he went. He loved the scrape of his stubble, the way it burned pleasantly, and how novel it felt to run the flat of his palm along it.

  As he traced a path up one of Anders’ arms with his tongue (still bone thin, no matter how Fenris tried to get him to eat) he took a moment to nibble on the jut of his shoulders, teeth pricking hard enough to warn, but not necessarily to hurt. He simply liked the way that Anders’ body was arranged﹘the long, lean limbs, the bony joints that he would kiss and kiss again, however long it took to convince Anders that he was a beautiful as Fenris said he was.

  There were parts, of course, that Fenris enjoyed more than others. His nipples, for instance, proved to a be a source of great enjoyment, as they were now. Every suck, every slow, languid swirl of his tongue, had Anders groaning beneath him, muttering his name. And when Fenris would used his teeth, as he did now ever so carefully, Anders would throw his head back, panting with the pleasure of it.

  But there were so many other parts of Anders for him to explore, and so eventually, regretfully, he moved on.

  His mouth latched onto the jut of his hip, where a few careful drops had spattered. They were sweet under his tongue, such a perfect contrast to the natural saltiness of Anders’ skin that it made him hum in pleasure.

  Though it seemed like it ought to have been an obvious choice, Anders hadn’t put any honey on his cock. Still, it was one of his favorite parts and so Fenris lavished it with attention all the same, until Anders was moaning and squirming beneath him.

  “F-Fenris, come up here,” Anders managed to pant, trying to remember that he actually had plans for how tonight was supposed to go, before Fenris came along and fucked all sense out of him.

  He kissed him hard when Fenris finally moved up and over him, tangling his hands in his hair. He could taste the honey on his lips, in his mouth, and his tongue chased it just as Fenris’ had been, moments before. Groaning softly he pressed against Fenris’ shoulder, a sign that he wanted him on his back, and smiled when the elf obliged him.

  “Fen,” he said, situating himself between the elf’s legs, just holding his thighs for a moment. Idly he moved his hand down one thigh and then squeezed his hip.

  “Yes, Anders?” He asked, looking up at him curiously.

  There were several things he wanted to say but, afraid of overwhelming him, Anders settled on one.

  “You’re quite lovely,” he said, no trace of joking in his voice, only sincerity.

  Fenris blinked back at him, not quite having expected that. It was a difficult thing to swallow, his compliments, but he had become better over the months at doing so. He even, privately, allowed himself to consider that they might be true and not just blind flattery.

  “Thank you,” he said finally, and felt the strange tension in his chest ease when Anders finally leaned down to kiss him, before moving back up again and reaching for the little vial of oil that sat on the nightstand to the right of his bed. He coated his fingers liberally and Fenris watched hungrily as Anders spread him open and sunk first one and then two fingers into him.

  He groaned, closing his eyes as Anders curled his fingers up and thrust shallowly, preparing him until he was ready, until he reached up to grasp at Anders’ arm and rasped, “Now.”

  Anders, never one to deny him, nodded eagerly and, after some positioning, gently pushed into him, groaning as he pressed his body fully against Fenris’. The solid weight of him felt good and Fenris sighed softly, wrapping his arms around Anders as the other man leaned down to kiss and suck on his neck. He moved his mouth to Fenris’ lips, kissing him gently, and tried to move only to feel something…stick.

  Anders frowned, and, deciding to ignore the strange feeling, shifted again, wanting to adjust so that he could﹘

  He could _feel_ the way his skin peeled apart from Fenris’, could feel the dried, not entirely licked off, honey as it sought to keep him and Fenris together.

  “...Anders?”

  “Uh, just ignore it?” He wanted to give Fenris one of his confident smiles but when he tried to move up onto his elbows to do so their bodies parted with a sound almost like tearing.

  “...Right,” Fenris said, biting his bottom lip. “Maybe if we just don’t﹘”

  He tried to move first, bringing his pelvis down only for the backs of his legs to get caught on something as they met the front of Anders’ thighs.

  “Anders,” he said after a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on far too long, “Did you pour honey down your legs too?”

  “Ye-es,” he replied, face beginning to heat not from arousal or passionate lovemaking but from plain embarrassment.

  “I did not think you would go that low,” Fenris said, voice and face disturbingly blank. He tried to move his legs back and they unstuck after a brief struggle, Anders muffling a curse as some of his own leg hair went with them.

  “Okay, new plan,” Anders said, “I hold your legs back like this, neither of our bodies touch﹘ Good?”

  At this point Fenris was doing his best not to at least chuckle but, knowing it would likely hurt Anders’ feelings, nodded as seriously as he could manage. (He also rather preferred their bodies touching as much as possible, and half-hysterically, wondered if wouldn’t be a little nice to be stuck to the mage, _literally_.)

  “Good,” was what he said instead, as he lay back and then helped Anders push both of his legs up and towards his body, so that he was almost folded in half. The only problem with this position was that it required Anders’ hands to be on the back of his legs, which, quite unfortunately were now covered in honey from where they had been pressed against Anders’ tragically un-licked thighs.

  “Maker’s Balls!” Anders finally half-screeched as he pulled his hands away, only to find more half-dried honey smeared onto them.

  It was then that Fenris, finally meeting his limit, burst out laughing, unable to restrain himself any longer. It wasn’t just a giggle or a half-smothered chortle either, but full on, side-gripping, laughter. He tried to slap a hand over his mouth but the sounds of his snickering managed to escape even that, and it was only when he looked up at Anders’ face, his eyes gleaming wetly, that he managed to control himself.

  “I﹘apologize, I just﹘”

  But Anders merely hung his head, and then began to shake, as if weeping. For a moment Fenris felt his stomach plunge, never having intended to hurt him only﹘

  “Fuck me, it _is_ kind of funny,” he started to laugh, shaking his head, and slapped a hand to his forehead before realizing what he’d done. This time he didn’t even struggle, only giving into the urge to groan while still trying not to laugh.

  The tension in Fenris melted away completely then as he felt free to join him until finally, slowly, their chuckles subsided.

  “We should…clean up,” Fenris said, thinking a little sadly about what had promised to be such a lovely night. Ah well, there would be more to come, of that he was confident.

  Slowly Anders slid out of him, grimacing as he tried to do both this and _not_ get any more honey on the bed, on Fenris or on himself. In that order. When he was done, however, he looked up at Fenris with a mischievous glint and then, as innocently as he could manage, asked, “Your bathtub does fit two people, does it not?”

  “...If they do not mind being close together.”

  “Well,” he sniffed, “I suppose I will suffer it if you will.”

  “Gladly,” Fenris replied, trying to control the smirk that threatened to spread over his face, wide.

  
  


  “Maker’s Breath, I _really_ need one of these in my clinic,” Anders muttered as he slid into the bathtub, the porcelain cool against his skin until it sank beneath the warm water. The pipes, Fenris had enlightened him, had fire runes on them and although Anders would have offered up his magic happily he was glad to not have to do so. The casual use of his magic still made Fenris uncomfortable, as much as he tried to act otherwise, and so Anders had tried to reduce it as much a possible.

  (He wouldn’t think too much of why it was so important for him to compromise in this, but it was.)

  “A bathtub and clean water?” Fenris asked.

  “If I weren’t too relaxed to do so I would have thrown this bar of soap at you.”

  “Hmm, and then I would not have been able to scrub you down. A shame.”

  “...Go on.”

  Fenris chuckled and then slid into the bathtub across from Anders, the water level rising dangerously. A few incautious moves and they would easily spill half the tub, not that either man was thinking of that at the moment.

  “So,” Anders said, “About that washing I was promised?”

  Fenris rolled his eyes and then beckoned Anders closer, chuckling as water heaved and sloshed from Anders’ movements until, finally, he was situated neatly between Fenris’ legs.

  Taking the bar of soap and lathering his hands well the elf then began to methodically scrub the dried sugar from Anders’ skin, ignoring the mage’s occasional grumbles that this bath was supposed to have been far more sexy.

  “Not sticking to each other when we fuck will be infinitely more arousing,” he muttered, looking up at Anders to make it clear that he was joking.

  “Mm-hmm,” he replied.

  “Though I did rather enjoy getting to lick so much of you...”

  Anders snorted, feeling a strange warm feeling creep into his chest.

  “...Not that you are not ordinarily delicious.”

  Groaning, even if he was secretly thrilled, he grouched, “Are you getting these lines from Varric? _Swords and Shields_ is not, I repeat, not to be taken as an instruction man-”

  He was cut off at the last moment by Fenris’ lips on his, making little _hmph_ noises as though continuing to speak. Alright, so maybe those lines were working on him. Perhaps it made him a weak man, but if so Anders didn’t mind much, not resisting as Fenris pulled him into his lap.

  As he slid forward slightly and realized that Fenris was already half-hard again he groaned, unable to help but grind against him, his own cock beginning to harden in response. He deepened their kiss, their tongues briefly meeting before he moved to kiss and lick the elf’s neck, smiling against it when Fenris grunted and seemed to arch his neck out a little.

  They decided to take it slow this time, Fenris because he generally enjoyed that more and Anders because he was still feeling a little emotionally sore from earlier. Fenris’ laughter, which was as rare and delightful as a peaceful day in Kirkwall, had gone a long way towards assuaging his feelings but he still felt a little twinge of embarrassment when he thought of how his plans had fallen through.

  “Anders, you are somewhere else.” Fenris’ voice was soft, even gentle. Less and less Anders was surprised when he saw this side of him﹘it came out rarely, that was true, but as he slowly grew to learn more about the elf he sometimes wondered at the fact that there was in any good left in him at all. And yet...there was.

  “Really? I’m pretty sure I’m here, sitting in your lap, in your bathtub.”

  “You know that is not what I meant.”

  “...I just rather wish the honey thing had worked out﹘I’d thought to surprise you, you know, it’s just, you’ve been so good to me, more than I deserve and I wanted-”

  Suddenly Fenris was sitting up, barely catching a surprised Anders to keep him from falling back in the tub. His eyes were wide and he had a deep frown on his face and Anders felt his heart sink a little. Dammit, why did he have to ruin everything-

  “Anders, I am not angry with you. Nor am I disappointed with how tonight turned out.”

  “Is that so?” The mage was skeptical in response, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to look as though he wasn’t still naked, straddling Fenris. “I wouldn’t be﹘I would understand if you were, given that I messed everything up﹘”

  “Do I seem unhappy?” He made an effort to smooth out his features, to look up at Anders with as earnest of an expression as he could.

  “Well just a second ago there-”

  “ _Anders_ ,” both men knew he was being ridiculous but it still took a few moments of staring at each other before the mage’s shoulders finally slumped in defeat.

  Slowly Fenris reached forward, taking his hands in his own and squeezing them slightly. “You spent precious time and coin trying to do something nice for me. You brought me dinner, and tried to surprise me with something very pleasant. Regardless of whether it worked or not, I cannot be displeased when you went to such great lengths to make me happy.”

  “Honestly I can’t believe you even noticed there was food in the room.” He replied with a snort.

  “I smelled it before I opened the door. After that I was rather…focused.”

  “Heh, right.”

  They both looked at each other, Fenris feeling warm and triumphant at the small smile on the mage’s face, and Anders feeling the last of his anxiety trail away. He looked down, realizing that Fenris still had not let go of his hands, and squeezed his gently in return. Someday he would make a wonderful husband, Anders thought.

  He knew it would not be to him, but that was alright. He had Fenris for now, and he promised himself that he would not waste what little time they had by wallowing in self-pity. Fenris may not have loved him, might never be capable of loving him, but what he was willing to give Anders was more than enough.

  Slowly Anders sat up and then got out of the bathtub, grasping one of the towels and beginning to dry himself off. He could feel Fenris’ eyes on him and had to resist the urge to arch his back or otherwise move.

  “Come on,” he said finally, offering his hand out to held Fenris out of the bathtub. “Let’s go eat- I even remembered to get some apple pie for dessert.”

  “So you saved the night after all,” Fenris murmured, and then left the bathtub to trail loyally behind the mage. And for the pie, of course.

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Quid hoc est?" is bad latin for "What is this?"


End file.
